Demons Within
by Aerial312
Summary: Josh struggles with his guilt over receiving the NSC card.


Title: Demons (1/1)  
Author: Aerial312  
Rating: PG-13  
Category: Angst  
Timeline: Season 1. In the middle of "Crackpots and These Women". After Josh talked to Sam about the card, before he met with his psychiatrist.  
Disclaimer: I own nothing…I just borrow.  
Feedback: Greatly appreciated.  
A/N: I realized in the scope of my 3 long series, I've overlooked Season 1, and there are some lovely moments to write.

I was curious about whether the New Yorker article that CJ has Josh read was real. It was. It's called "The Demon in the Freezer" by Richard Preston, July 12, 1999. It was a really interesting read.

Josh trudged back through the lobby to his bullpen. It was a bustle of activity, but he wasn't really taking any of it in. His head had been in a fog since he'd been handed that card in Leo's office. He paused at the coffee machine. Maybe a cup of coffee would clear his head. He grabbed the carafe by the brown plastic handle.

No one else had the card. Leo did, sure, but not Sam, not CJ, not Toby…not Donna. His eyes sought her out across the crowded bullpen. She was sitting at her desk chatting away as she stuffed some papers into a folder. She smiled as she noticed he was back, and held up one finger to let him know she'd be right over.

Josh clenched his eyes shut. Why was he to be whisked off to safety in the event of a disaster, while his friends... It didn't seem like an honor to him.

"Josh?" Donna asked quietly, resting one hand on his arm while the other hand clasped around his to steady the shaking coffee pot before it spilled.

"Hmm?" He asked, blinking to focus.

She guided the full pot back to the burner. "You were pouring cup?"

Josh nodded. "I…got distracted."

Donna grabbed a paper cup from the stack and quickly filled it. She plucked three sugar packets and tore the tops off, emptying the contents into the steaming liquid. She stole a look up at Josh as she reached for the creamers. He was staring blankly down at the coffee setup again. She shook the small plastic tub and pulled the lid off, pouring it in. Given his distraction he needed a lid, she decided, so she grabbed one from the top of the pile and secured it on top. She even opened the latch.

"Here you go." She held it out to Josh, touching his shoulder again to draw him out of his head.

"Thanks…" he murmured, starting for his office, cocking his head for her to follow.

Josh leaned against his desk, cupping the coffee in both hands, blowing on it. She'd poured him a cup of coffee, without teasing him, without him even asking her to. He must look particularly lost.

Donna followed him in, a file tucked under her arm. She studied him as she entered. His eyes were closed again, lines of worry marked his face. Something was bothering him, that was for sure. Donna closed the door quietly behind her.

"How was your meeting?" she asked, cheerfully.

He blinked his eyes open, and took a sip of the coffee. "I've had several meetings since the last time I talked to you."

Donna shook her head and smiled. He was misdirecting her. She knew he knew exactly what meeting she was asking about.

"It looks like we might get a big fundraiser on the LA trip," he attempted a smile, but it wasn't genuine enough to bring out the dimples. He crossed behind his desk, and put the coffee down, fiddling with a stack of papers.

"The one with the guy from—"

"Oh! CJ wants me to read this New Yorker article—"

"About smallpox, yeah." She held out the folder in her hands.

He didn't look up. "Can you get it?"

"Josh."

"I can't talk about that meeting right now. I need to read—" he looked up, raking his hand through his unruly hair. "Is that it?"

Donna nodded. "Interesting stuff."

"You already read it?"

"Did some cards and everything. But the article's not that long. You should read the whole thing."

Josh took the file and flipped through it. "Yeah. "The Demon in the Freezer". I thought we eradicated smallpox in the seventies."

"There has not been a naturally occurring case since 1977."

"But?"

"Officially only the CDC and a Russian lab called Vector have stocks of it. But there's a long list of other countries with suspected stockpiles. The concern now is—"

"Using it as a weapon," he finished, sinking into his chair as Donna continued.

"Right. No one has any immunity any more, no one born after 1972 has been vaccinated in this country—"

"You were born in 1973."

"I was," Donna confirmed. "Anyways, protection from the vaccine wanes after ten years, so anyone who was vaccinated doesn't really have immunity anymore."

"Yeah…" Josh scowled down at the article. "An epic disaster…"

A moment passed in silence, Josh staring down at the folder on his lap, Donna studying Josh. She was dying to know what was bothering him.

"Do you need anything else?" she asked, hoping he would come up with something. She just didn't want to leave him alone just yet.

He didn't look up or make any indication that he had heard her question. Donna crossed behind the desk to stand beside him.

"Josh?" she asked, touching his shoulder lightly.

His head snapped up, startled.

"Sorry," she smiled. "Anything else you need before I go back to my desk?"

He wanted so badly to tell her what was bothering him, but he shook his head, unable to think up anything to get her to stay with him a little longer. "I should…" He nodded toward the New Yorker article. He wasn't sure how he was going to steel himself to read about bioterror disaster right now, but he had to.

"Once you've read it, we could talk through it some more," Donna suggested.

Josh nodded, and she started for the door.

"Donna?" he called, stopping her in her tracks. She turned to face him. "Could you call Dr. Rosenthal and see if he might be able to fit me in this afternoon?"

"Sure," Donna nodded.

Dr. Rosenthal was his psychiatrist. He hadn't been to see the doctor in a while because he was worried about how it would look if anyone found out. She was glad that he was, albeit indirectly, admitting that something was bothering him by wanting her to schedule some time with Dr. Rosenthal.

"I just need the number. You didn't want him in the Rolodex."

"No…" Josh sighed. "I wonder where I put—"

"His card was in your wallet the last time," Donna told him.

Josh fished it out of his pocket and started to hand it to her. He paused and began to laugh. How had he even thought that not telling Donna about the NSC card was possible? Barely an hour later, and here he was absently handing her his wallet. She went into his wallet for various things nearly every day. There was no way not to tell her. He shook his head and let his wallet fall to the desk.

Donna crossed quickly over to him, alarmed. She stood close, closer than she normally would during the work day, leaning against his desk facing him. She hesitated, but her urge to comfort him won out, and she reached out with her hand. He caught it in his and squeezed hard. She pulsed his hand in return.

After a moment, she spoke. "What happened in that meeting, Josh?" she asked softly.

He let his head bow forward, resting it on her hip, and remained silent for a minute. She didn't push for an answer, just held tight to his hand. Her other hand came up to rest on his shoulder, and she traced little half moons there with her thumb. Finally, his breathing evened out, and he raised his head up off the fabric of her suit. He picked up his wallet and opened it.

"They gave me this," he handed her the little green card. "In the case of a nuclear emergency."

"To whisk you off to safety?"

Josh gave a curt nod.

"Makes sense," Donna told him, taking his wallet out of his hand and replacing the little green card. She rooted through it, and extracted Dr. Rosenthal's card.

"But it's just me. No one else…"

And here was the root of the problem, Donna thought. Josh felt guilt to the extreme.

"It's just protocol. What are the chances of a nuclear—"

She was cut off by Josh slamming his hand down hard on the New Yorker.

"This! This is the threat now!" He choked the words out, and threw himself back against his chair, closing his eyes. His tone softened. "I just don't know if I could handle being whisked to safety while everyone who means anything to me is left vulnerable."

She took his hand again. She didn't quite know what to say to him. To admit she agreed with him would just fuel his guilt. But it wouldn't do to say that what he felt was silly. At a loss for words, she squeezed his hand tightly.

Josh took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Time to return to the work at hand. "You'll call Dr. Rosenthal?"

"I will," Donna assured him, giving his hand a final pulse before releasing it. "I'll call him now. Drink the rest of your coffee before it gets cold."

"Thank you," Josh sighed as she walked toward the door. "For all of this."

They both knew he wasn't talking about the folder on his desk or the cup of coffee. Josh ran his hand into his hair and laid his head on it, focusing his eyes on "The Demon in the Freezer." He still didn't know what to do about the card, but it felt better to have told her.


End file.
